


Private Practice

by CouldntBeDamned



Series: The Doctor Will See You Now [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Don't Try This At Home, Dubious Ethics, Enemas, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Peter Parker is of Age, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sexual Roleplay, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22891561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CouldntBeDamned/pseuds/CouldntBeDamned
Summary: Peter Parker's appointment with Dr. Strange doesn't go as he'd planned when the good doctor prescribes a certain medical procedure.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Stephen Strange
Series: The Doctor Will See You Now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964650
Comments: 21
Kudos: 205





	Private Practice

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags. No, seriously, I'll wait. Read the tags.

**Private Practice**

* * *

Peter's never felt so hesitant or nervous about a doctor's visit.

He knows that the doctor would never hurt him, but this is so humiliating. It's not like Peter's _complained_ about his little issue, he had only brought it up in a purely factual way. So why is this doctor so insistent?

"I don't need this, Dr. Strange," Peter says, holding the exam gown closed tight. "Really, I'll be fine."

"It's medically necessary, Peter," Strange says. "And it will make you feel better, I promise."

"But I d-"

Before he can finish, Dr. Strange is manhandling him into position and fastening on restraints.

He's on his side, almost curled into the fetal position, but with his hands restrained behind his back. His leg is strapped down to the table and the other is up in a stirrup currently being fastened in, as well. It leaves him exposed _there_ and he moans in embarrassment.

"There's nothing to embarrassed about, Peter," Dr. Strange assures him. Apparently, the man can read minds. "This is perfectly normal, I assure you. I'll tell you everything I'm doing, okay?"

Peter can only nod, miserable.

"The solution is already mixed up and in the bag that's hanging behind you. So, first, I'm going to use medical-grade lubricant on your anus and work some inside of your rectum with a finger."

Peter feels something cold press against his asshole and yelps. "Cold!"

"I'm sorry, Peter," Dr. Strange apologizes.

The Doctor's finger massages the lube around Peter's hole and oh, _oh_ that feels good. Oh, no. Then, then the finger presses _inside_ him and that's it. Peter's hard. Fuck his life.

"Next, I'm going to use the same lubricant on the tubing before inserting it. It may feel like a lot, but it's only going to be about four inches inside of you."

Something pokes at his hole and Peter's body stiffens. There's no way he's letting something like that inside him. But then the finger is back, circling and circling and against his will, Peter relaxes enough that the tubing - well-lubed - slides right in.

It's so deep, too deep, long before it stops.

"You're okay, Peter, it's in now. Take some deep breaths for me, okay?"

Fuck, fuck this stupid doctor for being so fucking calm about all of this!

" _Breathe_ , Peter."

Peter inhales sharply. It's uncomfortable, having this tubing inside of him. It's so humiliating. What if someone finds out?

"Keep taking those good, deep breaths for me, Peter. You're doing so well."

Peter keeps breathing, trying to relax.

"Now this part is going to feel a little weird, but there's nothing to worry about, I promise," Dr. Strange says.

Peter hears the sound of something twisting and there's the absolutely insane sensation of fluid filling him. He's never felt anything like it in his life. It's... weird, just like Dr. Strange said it would be.

It's not even a minute (though time feels off at the moment, has since this whole ordeal started) before Peter starts to feel full. But the fluid keeps on coming, continues to fill him. He's convinced that this is too much, he's got to be nearly finished.

"You're doing so good, Peter. The bag is almost half-way empty," Strange comments.

 _Almost half-way?_ There was no way Peter was going to be able to do this! He was so full already, and he could _feel_ the warm liquid sloshing around inside of him.

"You've got to be kidding me," Peter says weakly. "I can't."

"You can, Peter. You're doing so good and you'll feel so much better when this is all over," Dr. Strange encourages. He brings a hand down and rubs Peter's abdomen, which is definitely swelling.

Peter lets out a startled gasp at the sensation. The fluid just keeps filling him and the pressure from Strange's hand feeling his abdomen is near-unbearable.

"Please, s-stop," Peter begs. "It's too much!"

"It's okay. There's only about a quarter of the bag left to go," Strange tells him, continuing to rub.

Peter sobs in relief when Dr. Strange announces that the bag is empty. He's so full and the pressure is starting to hurt, like cramps that will never go away. He can't move with the way the doctor's restrained him.

"Okay, Peter, I'm going to remove the tubing, and then I'm going to insert a small plug into your rectum. This will keep the solution from leaking out until it's time for you to evacuate."

No. No no no. He can't deal with this. Not a plug on top of everything else.

But then something is pressed into his hole and there's even more pressure before the plug flares and settles inside him. He's restrained, filled, and plugged. He can feel the tears pouring down his heated face. He's never been so humiliated in his life.

But, worst of all, he's still hard; his erection hasn't flagged one bit.

"Well, look at that," Dr. Strange comments lightly, hand moving down Peter's abdomen to stroke the hard flesh. "It looks like you're enjoying this, Peter."

"'M not," Peter says immediately, then groans as the doctor strokes him again. "P-please stop," he tells. He can't take this, can't take being aroused on top of how painfully full and cramping he is.

Strange doesn't stop. In fact, his other hand settles on Peter's swollen abdomen and palpates the area while the first plays with Peter's cock. "I've never had a patient enjoy this so much, Peter," he tells him. "Most patients find enemas humiliating, not arousing."

"I, I don't! I _am_ humiliated!" Peter whines. He's cramping _so badly_ and the doctor won't _stop_ pressing down where the solution is sloshing around inside of him or stop touching his dick. Peter continues to cry; he hates this, hates this stupid doctor, hates that the sick arousal isn't going away, just building.

"Then you obviously have some kind of kink for it." There's a horrible sort of smirk on Dr. Strange's face. "Such a naughty boy, aren't you?"

Peter's cock twitches in Strange's hand.

"You are," Strange tells him. "But I think you can be good for me, can't you?"

Peter moans. This doctor's voice is near pornographic at times and he's stroking Peter's cock in the best _worst_ best way.

"That's right. You've been so good, letting me take care of you and give you the treatment you need," Strange's gloved-thumb dips into the slit of Peter's cock and he wishes he could move - to get more of that touch or pull away, he's not sure.

"If you keep being good for me, I'll let you come when all of this is over, okay?"

Peter doesn't want to come. Except that he does, desperately. But if he does, he'll never live it down, will never be able to look Dr. Strange in the eye again.

Peter can only moan, which the doctor seems to take as agreement.

"This will all be over soon, Peter," Strange tells him. His hands are still working Peter, one hand making the cramps worse and the other forcing pleasure on him. "You're going to feel so good when all of this is over." He presses down firmly on Peter's abdomen, tightens his grip on Peter's cock, and Peter cries even harder, reminded of how helpless he is.

"Please, just stop," Peter begs. "Please, I-I can't."

"Just a bit longer, Peter," Dr. Strange assures him. "I know you can be good and listen to your Doctor. I'm just trying to make you feel better, okay? I want you to feel good."

"Why is it taking so long?" Peter asks, breath hitching. Another cramp hits him hard and the pressure from Strange's hand rubbing the area isn't helping.

"The solution needs time so it can help you." The hand on his cock twists just a bit and Peter gasps. "Is it really so bad?"

"It hurts," Peter cries weakly. "Dr. Strange, it hurts."

"It'll be over soon." Strange's hands leave him. "In fact, it's time for me to help you out of these restraints."

Peter's raised leg is unstrapped and lowered, gloved hands massaging it gently. Then his other leg is released, and then his arms from behind his back. Dr. Strange helps him sit up and the pressure that sitting puts on the plug, the pressure that he feels with all of the liquid inside him; has him moaning loudly in distress.

"You're okay, Peter. I'm going to help you over to the toilet, now."

Peter's unsteady as Dr. Strange supports him and walks him over to the toilet. He can feel the solution from the enema bag sloshing around with every step and it's so weird to be walking while he's plugged. But each step is one step closer to ending this humiliating torture.

"I'm going to remove the plug and I need to you to do your best to keep everything in until you're settled on the seat, okay?" Strange helps him turn so that he can sit. "You're doing so well, Peter. I'm so proud of you." He takes hold of the base of the plug, fingers working to get the best grip. "Now, take some deep breaths for me, this part can be uncomfortable."

Peter does his best to breathe as Dr. Strange removes the plug. It's a fight to get the flared bit out, and then it slides out in a sensation that leaves Peter feeling like he's gaping open back there. "Clench, Peter," Strange instructs.

Peter clenches like his life depends on it. He leans on Strange's shoulder as he lowers himself onto the toilet seat and nearly sobs in relief as skin meets porcelain.

"Okay, you can let it go, now."

Peter does sob as he unclenches. It's the oddest sensation as everything just gushes out of him. He can't believe that there's _so much_ , even with how full he'd felt. He catches a glimpse of the bag, still hanging, and it seems so small.

"You're should be feeling much better now," Dr. Strange tells him. "Getting everything out."

He _does_ feel better, the pressure is gone and he's not cramping anymore. And still, he's not done, there's more of the solution continuing to leave him as he bends over.

And his erection is gone and Peter kind of wants to scream.

"Just keep relaxing, Peter, you're doing great," Strange soothes. "You're going to feel so good when this is over."

After what feels like hours but is maybe only a minute or two, Peter's finished.

"Good boy," Dr. Strange tells him. He helps Peter stand and walks him back over to the exam chair. Peter lets himself be placed, feeling kind of floaty.

It's finally over. This nightmare is over. He's survived. And he's never going to speak of this again.

"Now, I do believe I promised that if you were good, I'd let you come."

It's when he feels a gloved finger circling his rim that Peter suddenly realizes he's positioned the same way he was when Dr. Strange was giving him the enema. "What are you doing?" he asks, startled.

"Just relax. I'm going to make you come, Peter."

The finger presses inside him, then a second joins in. The fingers move around, scissoring, searching until they brush over _something_ that has him keening and his cock going hard so fast his head spins.

"There we go. Lucky for you this can also double as your prostate exam, Peter." The fingers continue to work that spot inside of him while Strange's other hand resumes it's stroking of Peter's cock. "How are you feeling?"

Good. So damn good. "G-good."

"I'm glad. Now, I'm going to put some more pressure on your prostate, okay? Don't fight it, just let yourself feel."

Peter is so dizzy that all he can do is let himself feel. There's a hot, wonderful sort of feeling that's growing deep in his gut. It's intense, more than he's felt from just fisting his own cock while he lays awake on his twin bed trying not to make noise in his aunt's apartment. This feeling, it feels like it's going to rip him apart, send him bursting into a million little pieces.

"You're so good, Peter, so good. I'm so proud of you." Dr. Strange continues to praise him and stroke him and press into that spot that makes everything feel like a supernova and pleasure and anticipation builds in Peter until-

Peter comes with a loud cry, body jerking violently at the force of it. Dr. Strange continues to stroke him, presses that spot a bit more gently than before. It prolongs the pleasure until when all is said and done, Peter collapses weakly on the chair, drained.

"I'm going to prescribe you some rest and some water, okay?"

There's the snapping sound of gloves being pulled off.

"Lame," Peter teases. He's riding the most wonderful high, he feels incredible. "But you were amazing, Stephen. So good. So clinical and, I don't know, almost a dick about it."

Stephen brushes a hand over Peter's forehead, strokes his face. "I didn't push you too hard, did I?"

Peter shakes his head. "No, I would have said so if you had. You were perfect." He smirks. "You're so hot when you wear scrubs."

Stephen chuckles as he helps Peter sit up and urges a bottle of water into his hands. "I'll make it a habit to wear them more often. I have dozens of sets."

"We can do this again, right?" Peter asks, once he's finished the water and Stephen has actually checked his blood pressure to ensure that he's okay.

"Oh," Stephen promises. "I'll be scheduling some follow-up visits. Don't worry about that."

Peter grins. "Doctor knows best, I reckon."

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a little out of my wheelhouse. But the idea struck me and I couldn't resist. Hopefully it's not a dumpster fire.


End file.
